


Trip off the Glitz

by blakefancier



Series: For Your Entertainment [14]
Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:17:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy and Howard go shopping. Colonel Phillips is an unhappy man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trip off the Glitz

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, look, a story! Man, I have had a horrible case of writer's block. Not the worst case I've had (that lasted ten years), but bad. Still, I seem to have made it through the other end. And I might even start writing the next part of this series. We're getting close to the end, I think. *pets Howard*
> 
> That said, I've got a lot on my plate right now. Expect another part of For Your Entertainment and a new chapter of Blot. Then I am going to try to bang out a rough draft of the story I am writing for the Marvel Big Bang. I'm *hoping* that won't take me longer than a few weeks, then I can resume my regular writing schedule.

Howard drinks too much and doesn't eat enough. He sleeps badly, works until his eyes burn and his limbs tremble with exhaustion. He promised Steve he would take care of himself, but it's easier said than done. He doesn't mean to break his promise, but he misses Steve and the aching emptiness is easier to handle when he has something to concentrate on. And work has always been his fallback. 

When he gets too tired, when he makes too many stupid mistakes, he crawls into Steve's bunk, leaving grease stains on the sheets, and falls asleep. He wakes hard every time, but he doesn't relieve himself. Instead he lies on the bunk and strokes Steve's dog tags until his body relaxes. 

It's like that for a week, for longer than a week, until one morning Peggy wakes him with a firm shake of the shoulder.

His eyes flutter open and he stares at her blearily. "What?"

Peggy rolls her eyes at him, then tsks. "You're a mess. How is it that you're a mess? I was gone for five days." 

He leans up on an elbow and rubs his nose with the back of his hand. "You just got back? How was the mission? Did you get the information you needed?"

"That's classified information, Howard." She runs her fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes, warmth spilling across his cheeks. "Poor boy."

He grimaces, but doesn't pull away. He knows she won't step over the line, not now that Steve's claimed him. "He'll be home in another week." 

"And I've done a terrible job of taking care of you, haven't I?"

"Not your fault." He opens his eyes and smiles. "I'm incorrigible." 

She laughs and tugs on a lock of his hair. "God, you must spend half your time across his lap getting spanked."

He shrugs at that, looking away from her. "I guess you'll find out soon enough."

"I must admit, I'm curious." Peggy frowns. "Doesn't it make you uncomfortable? Not knowing the rules?"

"There are rules. We… we have rules. We just decide them together." God, he knows how that sounds, like they're two strangers playing sex games instead of lovers, instead of people who trust one another. "You don't think other Elites have the same relationship?"

"Maybe, but they certainly wouldn't say so if they did." She wrinkles her nose. "It sounds very unromantic."

Howard shrugs again; he doesn't want romance, he wants… exactly what he and Steve have. He clears his throat. "Was there a reason why you woke me up?"

"Oh, yes." She smiles. "Steve wanted me to take you to The Leather Glove."

"The Leather…. Oh." He blushes furiously. " I can… you don't need to hold my hand, Peggy. I've been shopping for myself for a long time now."

"Actually, I do. The proprietor doesn't allow unchaperoned submissives in his shop."

Howard clenches his jaw in anger. "Right, because who knows what might happen. They might have their own opinions about things. They might *buy* something. They—"

"Howard!" Peggy gently touches his arm. "It's a ridiculous rule, but it's not mine to break."

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Right, right, he needs to… it doesn't matter. Steve wants him to go, so he'll go. "Give me a half hour."

"All right. But not a moment longer or we'll be late for our appointment." She brushes a thumb against his bottom lip and he squirms. "I'll wait for you near the war room."

*****

Howard hasn't been in many specialty shops; he's never had a reason to, until now. 

It's… he's not nervous, he has no reason to be nervous. His dad is thousands of miles away and no one is going to tell him that Howard's gone into a shop to buy marital aids. But he wishes Steve were here with him, instead of Peggy. He feels… adrift.

The bell above the door of the shop rings when they enter and an older gentleman emerges from the back room. "Good afternoon, you must be Miss Carter," he says, shaking Peggy's hand and ignoring Howard's.

Howard considers turning around and walking out, but Peggy grips his upper arm and squeezes gently. "Yes, and this is Howard. Thank you for seeing us today, Mr. Krantor. Lord Falsworth speaks highly of your work."

"Lord Falsworth is a man of distinction." Krantor purses his lips thoughtfully. "I must admit, Miss Carter, that I find this situation very unsettling."

Howard opens his mouth to speak, but Peggy gives him a quelling look. "I realize this is unusual—"

"I should say so! A submissive coming into my shop with a person who is not his Dominant—"

"But," Peggy says, raising her voice, "Howard's Dom is a soldier. Surely we must make allowances for that?"

"Perhaps." Krantor slowly circles them, his gaze traveling over Howard's body. 

Howard flushes hot with anger and embarrassment, but he doesn't say anything. He lifts his chin, slightly, and clenches his hands.

"You're an American?" Krantor asks.

"Yes." He takes a slow, deep breath.

"Yes, what?" Krantor's voice cracks through the room like a whip and Howard flinches.

"Yes," he bites out, "I'm an American." 

Krantor raises an eyebrow. "You talk to your Dominant that way?"

"No, but you're not my Dom." He crosses his arms over his chest and smiles. "Are we doing business or aren't we? Because I have more important things to do if we aren't."

Krantor sniffs and shakes his head. "Let me show you what we have in the way of gags."

*****

Krantor does exquisite work, there's no denying that. He buys a few dildos to replace the one he left at home, a pair of leather cuffs, and a gag, just to spite Krantor.

He hesitates at the whips, paddles, and floggers, panic making his stomach clench.

"Howard," Peggy says softly, touching his shoulder. "You don't have to buy anything you're uncomfortable with, Steve wanted me to remind you of that."

Howard takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He knows he should be stronger than this, but just looking at them makes his blood run cold. He turns his head and looks for something to occupy his thoughts when he spies the most beautiful collar he's ever seen. It's made of black leather and there's a snake—no, dragon tooled along the length of it. He walks over to it; the detail makes his breath catch in his throat.

"It's amazing," he says, clasping his hands behind his back so he won't touch it. 

Krantor makes a soft sound. "It took me six months to get it perfect."

"You could buy it," Peggy says softly, but Howard shakes his head; he can, of course he can, but it doesn't feel right.

"I think I'm done." He takes a step back and forces himself to look away.

*****

"Mr. Stark, thank you for joining me." Colonel Phillips gestures for Howard to sit, so he does. 

"Of course, Colonel. What can do for you?" He doesn't fidget or squirm. He doesn’t do anything that might be perceived as weakness in Phillip's eyes.

"I was wondering if you remember a talk we had some time ago about you fraternizing with my people." Phillips leans back in his chair and tilts his head.

Howard clenches his jaw and tenses because of course that's what Phillips wants to talk about. He's corrupting Captain America with his Elitist ways. "I think so, but why don't do you refresh my memory, Colonel."

"I told you not to do it!"

Howard grips the arms of the chair and gives a charming smile. "I've never been very good at listening."

"Do I look like I find you amusing, Stark?" Phillips gives him a flat stare.

He shakes his head and fights the urge to cringe. "No."

"I want you to leave Captain Rogers alone. Do I make myself clear?"

Howard opens his mouth, then closes it, because he doesn’t know what to say. He's crystal clear on what Phillips is saying, but he not going to stop, he's never going to stop, but the idea of telling Phillips that is making him sick to his stomach.

"I don’t hear a 'yes, sir, Colonel' from you, Stark."

"I… I…" Then it hits him like a freight train, and for a moment, he's stunned.

"Stark," Phillips growls.

"You've made yourself clear, Colonel, but… but you're talking to the wrong guy. If you want the Captain and I to stop fraternizing, you'll have to take it up with him." Howard clutches the dog tags around his neck. "He's collared me, Colonel. According to American law, we're bonded and only the dominant partner can break a bonding."

'There's no paperwork—"

"It doesn't matter. That's just… bureaucracy. He's collared me and both Lord Falsworth and Agent Carter acknowledge our relationship. That's enough to establish our bonding." He shrugs. "It's out of my hands."

Phillips narrows his eyes. 

"Is that all, Colonel?"

"Get out of here."

Howard hops to his feet and flees before Phillips can call him back.

**Author's Note:**

> HOWARD! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK? You probably should have run it through Steve before you married yourself to him. 
> 
> Yeah, he blindsided me. *sighs*


End file.
